irrespective of the weather. ‘Denning’ was what Ophelia had called it—creating a safe little cocoon to relax in. And he was. I drank in the sight of his body going limp, his complete abandonment to exhaustion, and never wanted to see him any other way again.
I’d heard a lot about a mother’s love before having Kade, but it hadn’t made sense until I’d had him. I wasn’t hit with the tidal wave of maternal affection others had described. I was so anxious and harried by looking after him and not provoking Rick, I’d had little chance to enjoy him. But it snuck up on me, slowly but surely. Kids needed everything from us, and I wanted to give it to him. My focus wasn’t just me—it was him, always him. This distance created by the incident had hurt so freaking badly. I hadn’t realised how much until I had moments like this. When he sought me out and luxuriated in my attention, relaxing into me. I leaned over and pressed my lips to his forehead, pulling back to see his brow crease momentarily.
Aidan stopped, watching my every movement.
“You know I’ll always be there for him,” he whispered.
We just stared at each other for a moment as I saw something I’d never really seen in anyone’s face—a need to keep my son safe. Rick’s parents were the fun grandparents, who took him out when they felt like it and hyped him up on sugar, only to dump a totally dysregulated child off on my doorstep as they carefully looked past any sign of abuse in me. I nodded and then jerked my head at the door, and we tiptoed out.
He caught my hand as we walked down the hall.
“Flick…”
And the fear was back. This was the time that mums and dads spent together, after having put the kids to bed. They sat down on the couch and watched a show, maybe cuddling up, or they… My eyes flicked to the darkened entrance to the room I’d… No, to my room. His eyes softened when I turned around.
“It’s OK, Flick. Nothing’s going to happen unless you want it to.”
“What’s happening?” Peter walked in the front door, surveying the two of us. “Where’s Kade?”
“Sleeping in his own bed tonight, he says.” I shrugged, my eyes going to the floor. “We’ll see. He can always slip back in with us if he needs to. We’ll leave the doors open so we can hear him if he has a nightmare.”
“We?” Peter said, his eyes sliding over me.
“We,” I said with a definitive nod. I wasn’t feeling that confidence entirely, but I was going with it for now. “So, should we…?”
They moved as one towards the bedroom so that I walked in and saw every woman’s wet dream—two hot guys getting undressed for bed. I rested my shoulder on the door jamb as they stripped in that completely unselfconscious way men have. No worrying about cellulite for them! And why would they? They were bloody perfect.
Both of them sensed my gaze at separate times, but they responded in the same way. They glanced up, then slowed what they were doing, either unbuttoning their shirts or sliding off jeans. Their eyes met mine, and what had been done a million times before since we moved in here became something else altogether—a performance.
It wasn’t quite the theatrics of a male strip revue, but there were elements of it. A much quieter, more restrained show as fingers trailed over cloth, sliding it away from muscular bodies. As each bronzed inch revealed, my eyes flicked from one to the other to try and catch it all, but I didn’t need to, I realised. They were here for the near future at least, in no hurry to return back to home or wherever that was. For some reason, that made this easier, took some of the pressure off. Kade might not sleep through tonight, might need to come to bed with us for the next six months, but this would be here, waiting for me. As they were right now.
Peter turned to pull a drawer open, pulling out some sleep shorts and tossing a pair to Aidan, then removed the last of his clothes with his back turned. My eyes ran over that powerful back, those firm glutes, right before they were hidden away by the clothing.
Aidan showed no such shyness though. He waited until my eyes were on him to pull his jeans off, standing there for a moment completely naked, giving me time to take him all in.
And there was a lot. His hand strayed close to his hard prick, as if to give it a few strokes, but he forced his hand to still. He just stood there and watched me check out every damn inch of him.
I knew what he’d feel like going into me. Rick had been fairly inadequate in the dick department, though had made up for that with a talent for foreplay when he had a mind to, but I’d previously had boyfriends with a similar size. That stretching feeling that was a tiny bit scary, where you started to question if you’d bitten off more than you could chew, but then came that deep down sensation of satisfaction, of being filled, of having every sweet spot inside you stroked with his every push.
I jumped when I felt a hand on my arm, something that drew snorts from both of them.
“Flick…” Peter said, his hand going to my shirt button. He paused, waiting, staring at me with those deep brown eyes as I heard Aidan slide onto the bed. I couldn’t answer him, my mouth bone-dry, so I just nodded.
With the same methodical, sensual pace of before, he undid my shirt and then pushed it off my shoulders, that flash of fear of such a large man standing over me coming and going as his fingers brushed against my skin. I was startled by what I felt down the bond and looked up at his face to check. That same lovely warmth spilled into me, but with it came something much, much hotter.
He wanted me so fucking much. It raged like a torrent, slamming into me and tearing my breath away. My eyes jerked down, expecting to see him in a similar state of arousal, but he reached down and lifted my chin up, then slid the strap of my bra off my shoulder. The backs of his fingers grazed across my skin, sending a shiver through me. He paused, waited, then smiled when he seemed to sense it was pleasure rather than fear. Emboldened, that huge hand spread across my collarbone, his other one pushing the other strap down. For a moment, all I could hear was his breath and mine, coming faster, rougher, then his palm slid under the cup, covering my breast.
“So beautiful…” he rasped, pausing, waiting for my breath to slow a bit before moving. I looked up, unable to believe the reverent tone in his voice. How could anyone say something like that about me? Tears welled in my eyes, because I couldn’t believe it, because I wanted to so much.
“Flick,” he said, eyes searching my face, “I can stop.”
I didn’t want him to, but I couldn’t work out how to say that. So I reached up, drawing his head down, and then brought his lips to mine.
At first it was tentative, a brushing of lips, just getting a taste of each other. When I heard the rumble in his chest, I grew bolder, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. His hand went to my hips, pulling me up against him, taking control of the kiss as he thrust his tongue inside my mouth.
“Is this OK?”
I drew away for a second at the feel of a single finger along my spine, and saw Aidan standing behind me. His fingers went to the clasp of my bra with a questioning look. I nodded, not able to say anything else, my chin tipped up and back to Peter as the garment fell between us. Then it was just my bare torso, sandwiched between the two of them. Aidan’s mouth rained kisses along my shoulders, his fingers trailing along my skin, but Peter, he swallowed me whole.